


The scars to our memories

by withering_snowflowers



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 21:40:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18213986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withering_snowflowers/pseuds/withering_snowflowers
Summary: Draco isn't good at comforting you.





	The scars to our memories

War had never spared anyone before.

No women, no children, nor young and old. It was greedy, it was death, as it stretched out its burned fingers, reeking of fire and pain.

But even if you survived, still, inevitably, the war had also demanded its tribute from you. Nobody was going to be spared. And sometimes, you supposed, this tribute was almost worse.

You were okay during days, but it was the nights, the nights that seemed to take a toll on you. As if you were losing control over your mind during sleep and they’d come, the images as vivid as horror movies and you had the smell of burned flesh and the biting scent of iron, of the blood in your nose. And your classmates – the classmates that didn’t make it – their empty, reproaching eyes and cold skin.

In your dreams, you stumbled over them, before they reached out to you, pulling you with them into the abyss.

You woke up, your heart thumping your chest and cold sweat running down your temples. There was a silent scream stuck in your throat and fear wrapped around your neck. You sat up, the ghost of the realistic dream playing like a broken, ripped record in your mind, trying your best to forget.

Oblivion seemed very inviting.

You sat up, slipping out of the blankets, careful not to wake up the young man who was sleeping soundly next to you, his white-blonde hair sprawled out on the sheets. The moon was shining on them and in this moment, they seemed like liquid silver. You reached out to softly touch his head, before pulling the blanket back over his body. Apparently, it had slipped when he turned to the other side.

There was a window sill you always liked to sit on and over the past months, Draco had brought a larger piece of wood home, so he could spell it on, solely for you. You took a seat and pressed your face against the cold glass, before charming a water bottle to fill in a glass for you. The house was completely quiet and outside, life seemed to have haltered for a moment.

“You’re not sleeping again,” his voice was low enough to not startle you. Draco sat down in front of you, sleep still in his eyes.

“I couldn’t,” you replied and let the magic carry the glass to the kitchen sink, before returning his scrutinizing gaze. He seemed worried. After all this time, you had learned to read the tiny changes of his expression to differ between his moods. In return, he knew you like no other as well and of course, there was no way that Draco wouldn’t notice your nightmares.

There weren’t any further explanations needed, he could see it all in your eyes.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” he whispered and there was warmth in his voice despite his reproach.

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Silly goose,” he muttered and finally reached out to pull you into a tight embrace, his strong arms enveloping you like a warm blanket, “How many times have we talked about this? You wake me, when you’re having a nightmare. No discussion.” Draco pressed a kiss on your hair.

“You have enough burdens on your shoulders and they’re greater than my memories,” you mumbled against the fabric of his shirt. His scent was familiar and it felt like snuggling into your bed after a long journey.

“Besides,” you craned your neck to look at his face from below, “it’s just something minor. There’s no way I am going to wake you just because my mind can’t seem to be able to shut up. That’s ridiculous and I can take care of myse- oompf.” He crashed his lips against yours and this kiss, was, by no means, gentle.

“Impudence,” he then said, his grey eyes twinkling in the moonlight as he released you. It was unfair that he wasn’t even out of breath. “I’d like you to rely on me. Don’t shut me out. I was there too, you know.”

“Draco,” you buried your face in his neck, not letting the grotesque images in your mind preventing you from pressing a kiss on the soft skin right above his collarbone. He shuddered slightly.

“You’re changing topics,” he stroked your back, “Please let me help you in every way I can, _______. I’ve made a lot of wrong choices, but this one – I won’t decide wrong in this one. There’s no way I am going to let you suffer alone, stupid.”  _You meant everything_.

“Okay.”

He made you forget that night, let his fingers travel over your collarbones and pressed his lips on your neck, lavishing sweet spots until your heart was thumping wildly in your chest – but because of other reasons. He kissed your demons away, showering your face with soft kisses – on your forehead, on your eyelids, on your cheeks. The corner of your mouth, the bow of your lips.

It was skin against skin and fingertips brushing over your shoulder as he pulled your shirt over your head before his hands were back on you. Draco’s soft voice in your ear, whispering words that would never leave this room, words solely for you. Your hands intertwined with his, tangled in the sheets as he looked down to you, his lips curling slightly, lovingly upon rolling his hips against yours. His hair, so bright in this room, like salvation and his face as beautiful as an angel’s.

He made sure you felt loved, more than ever. Because he knew how lonely you were feeling, could see the guilt in your tired eyes. Draco knew how it felt, to feel alone and to feel the guilt on one’s shoulders, haunting, like a lost spirit in this world. He chased the shadows from your eyes with each of his caresses, kissed the unshed tears from your pretty cheekbones and shut your mouth with his own lips.

Until he was in your mind and in each of your cells.

“Draco,” his name escaped your lips in form of a sigh before you arched your back and kissed him firmly, stifling your moan.

“You’re beautiful,” he replied, stroking your cheeks, carving your features into his mind. He was overwriting his past with the future, with now and this very moment. Where your mouth was slightly agape, your lips were swollen and almost bee-stung-like from his kisses;

And still, they seemed so inviting.

There was love brimming in your eyes and a hint of a smile in the corner of your mouth. He was stroking your neck and your back, goosebumps in a long trail along your spine. You pressed a kiss on his chest.

“I’ve never met someone who solves things this way. It’s a bit unorthodox.”

“You’ve never met someone like me,” there was lazy arrogance reverberating in his voice but it was soft, too. Especially, when he placed his fingers on your chin, pushing it towards him in order to steal another kiss.

“Thank you,” you earnestly said, eyelids falling closed as his warmth lulled you back to sleep. Outside the sun was sleepily raising herself above the horizon. Draco pressed a kiss on your head before he reached for his phone from the nightstand to notify his workplace; as well as yours.

He was going to stay with you today.

.


End file.
